


C h a i n s

by dormant_bender



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Confusion, Denial of Feelings, Dominance, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Kinky, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Obedience, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Undecided Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 20:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4235751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormant_bender/pseuds/dormant_bender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Gamora takes what she wants from Peter without considering his feelings.</p><p>"I get it, okay? You're not into cuddling, neither am I.. M'more of a have a beer and pass out kinda guy myself." She rolls her eyes. "I know you know how I feel about you.. Makes me feel like shit that you do this to me and leave.. Could be a lot more than that.. I mean--If that's what you wanted."</p>
            </blockquote>





	C h a i n s

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh, actual smut.
> 
> Practicing smut skills tbh.
> 
> Enjoy :) xx

Had you have asked the notorious Star-Lord those months ago if his relationship with a particular, green-skinned assassin would have turned out like this, he would have probably scoffed and snickered at the lack of possibility. But that was the thing, it had occurred once, and he had thought that it would never happen again; _it did_. Each time he was abandoned feeling used and rather neglected by the beauty, and he soon came to the realization that he felt as if he deserved better than the treatment he was receiving.

Despite the pleasurable factors of the the relationship--using _relationship_ rather loosely--he finds himself silently pleading for more. For the closeness that a legitimate relationship provided but to no avail. After the second time he had found himself reaching out for her wrist, eyes wide and pleading as he stares at her--desperate and unhinged--but she only shook it off. Didn't even spare him a glance over her shoulder as she sauntered off.

Brows had furrowed each and every night that passed after their encounters, jade eyes glued to the top of his bunk or the roof of the cockpit. Whether it was during battle or after, he allowed his eyes to flutter close; he found himself pondering the thought of how to shift their relationship from what it became. Lack of feelings was something he had coveted himself for a considerate while but this? Well, he actually felt something with her. That nagging feeling nipping at the back of his head or how his pulse would rise upon laying eyes on her. The way he would find himself unconsciously licking his lips as he watched her take down an opponent, how she'd whip her hair out of her eyes as she straightened up. 

And it wasn't love, or at least that was what he told himself. Peter Quill was foreign to such an emotion. He didn't know love, didn't understand it, didn't want to understand it. Attachment? Is that what it was? A peculiar attraction, sure, but was he really becoming dependent on the assassin? His body yearned for the intimate touches she provided, or how she would whisper in his ear late at night in the cockpit as she rode him, her hips tight along either side of his own. Or how she would tug him away from women at the bars, pressing him back against the door of a stall or press him against the sink. God, how just the simple thought had him squirming in his seat.

Addiction. Surely he was addicted to the woman. Addicted to the way her smooth skin moved against his, how his name sounded against her tongue, and how she would gaze upon him after she was finished taking her pleasure. Never did she kiss him, she refused such an intimate gesture. He would find himself straining from the pillow to kiss those tempting lips, desperate for even the slightest taste, but had always been rejected by a shift of her ombre head.

Because Gamora didn't want the feelings that came along with their little rendezvous. That's what he told himself before and even after she left, he was convinced she possessed no feelings for him. All she desired was his cock and usually that would be enough for Peter, considering the number of one-night stands he had had prior to meeting her. But she was like a disease, one that eats at his mind and gnaws at his heart; there was no cure for her type of poison, and he wasn't even searching for such an antidote if there was one.

"Look at me, Peter." 

It was a simple demand for she didn't make requests. Sometimes he thought he should stop obliging her so she would understand the way that she made him feel but he could never bring himself to, couldn't deny her anything she asked of him. So he did, he tilted his head back against the headrest of the seat and shifted his eyes to lock with her own.

Emerald hands were gripping tightly to his shoulders, tight enough that he was sure the tiny crescents of her nails would be embedded into his skin long after it was over. Knew that the bruises of her fingers would leave remnants of their time together. Her eyes, dark with ecstasy and wanton lust, stare into his with a collage of emotions shining within them and he was sure that it reflected the look within his eyes as well.

His hands, warm and large, are anchored to her waist as she rides him. Unlike her, his hands were soft and pliable beneath her hips, his thumbs rubbing tiny circles into the smoothness of her skin. His hips buck up into her as she sinks down upon him, once, twice, thrice, finding himself unable to control the fierce movements of his body. She did this to him, made him lose all sense of control. It's her moans, he tells himself, that spurs him on to give her what she wants.

And her lips are at his ear once more, nipping at the shell, before chuckling darkly. "Such a good, obedient boy, Peter Quill." One of her hands abandons their vice-grip on his shoulders to brush his sweaty hair out of his eyes, slicking it back against his head, before roaming her hand along his cheek and resting upon his neck. Slight pressure is felt there as she wraps her tiny hand around it, sighing contently at the sound that Peter makes.

A grunt finds its way from his throat as his hips stutter in their movements, something pleasurable in the pain that she provides him with. "Anything.. For you.." He manages to splutter as he grips her hips tighter, his hips thrusting with abandon, just as she wants him to do. 

She finds her whole body rocking at the intensity of his movements, slamming down and impaling herself on his cock, meeting each and every harsh, stuttered thrust he offers her. Sinful lips find their way to his neck, nipping at the skin there, bringing to life a fading, yellow bruise until it's a deep lavender, matching the flush that paints her otherwise emerald skin. "So eager to give me what I want," she breathes in between nips of flesh, sucking adamantly until her teeth form little marks in his skin. "So eager to please me.."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck.." He gulps deeply as he feels her tighten slightly around his cock, his head limply resting against the headrest as he tilts it to give her better access. "S'all I want," he admits as he bites into his lower lip, ivory teeth stained with crimson as he breaks the sensitive skin. "Want you to want me.." And it slips out within his knowledge, hearing a soft sigh in response as she circles her hips in a rhythmic motion.

"I already have you," she breathes shallowly as she tightens the hand around his throat once more, grinding earnestly against his hips.

And he can't help himself as one hand grips her hip, pulling her harder down onto him, and how his other hand grips onto the armrest for purchase. His heart stutters just as his hips do when he releases deep within the assassin, her own head tilted back as she follows seconds after, clenching down snugly around his cock. She moves with him, grinding without abandon, as she takes her pleasure, her nails digging into his skin. Soft hisses erupt from his throat as he holds her hip firmly in place, hips angling slightly off the seat as he buries himself to the hilt inside of her before falling limp against the seat once more.

Their bodies twitch against each other, pressed flushed and into the contours of the other's body. Sweat glistens upon their skin, slicking their bodies, as they struggle to regain their breathing. One of his tanned hands abandons their positions to wrap around her slender waist while the other tucks stray strands of hair behind her ear. 

"Hey, hey.. Ya' can't.. Ya' can't just leave me after this, y'know?" His breathing is still rather labored as she straightens her spine, wetting her slightly chapped lips as he speaks. 

Her thumb glides along his bottom lip, delving into his mouth, as she stares into his eyes for a considerate moment. "And you suppose that I stay?" Her voice is stoic once more, an eyebrow quirked as she addresses him.

"Uh.. _Yeah_?" He murmurs once her finger withdraws from his mouth, eyes wide and pleading as always. "Ya' don't have to just leave me like that. I'm not a goddamn toy, Mora. Ya' can't just use me and throw me away." For a moment she's entirely silent, her eyes scanning his face intently as if she's searching for something there. Then she's moving in a second and climbing out of his lap, hiding her face from his. He catches her wrist, this time tugging her back to him. "I get it, okay? You're not into cuddling, neither am I.. M'more of a have a beer and pass out kinda guy myself." She rolls her eyes. "I know you know how I feel about you.. And it makes me feel like shit that you do this to me and leave.. Could be a lot more than that.. I mean--If that's what you wanted."

Another pause. "But what if that's not what I want, Peter?" There it is again, that strange tinge to her voice.

All of his fears formed into one single sentence. "Okay first, _ouch_." He mumbles with a sigh. "And second, why not? Cuz, really, I'm cool with you leaving in the morning like I'm some one-time dude that you could care less about.. Trust me, been there done that. But with girls, not with dudes, but anyway.. The point is: you keep comin' back and I wanna know why." Her countenance is unreadable as she gazes upon him once more, though her eyes are slightly narrowed this time. "Just tell me why so I can stop foolin' myself into thinking you want me too."

The thin line that is her lips tilts into a small frown as she stares at him, averting their gaze to stare towards the window of the cockpit, staring out into the vastness of the galaxy. Peter awes at the sight of her body bathed in the soft glow of the console, marvels at the way her skin illuminates before him. He doesn't speak his admiration, however, almost afraid that the comment would be enough to send her sauntering on her way.

"I.. Do not know what to say." Was her simple reply as she tugs her wrist away from the man to face directly towards the window, her hands gripping onto the console before her for support. 

"Give me somethin'? I gotta know, Gamora. S'not fair to me." And in another life, he would scold himself for saying such a thing considering the multitude of women he had taken advantage of before her had met her. It wasn't fair to them but he felt that pang of guilt each and every time Gamora had dominated him and left him out to dry.

"I don't know what to feel, I suppose?" It's more of a question than a definite explanation, her head tilted down towards the flashing console.

"God, woman. You mount me like m'some stallion, ride me into the next galaxy, and then don't know how to feel about it?" Maybe that wasn't the right approach. Hands tangle within his recently trimmed hair, tugging at the roots, before having them wash over his face. "Okay, ignore that. What I meant to say is.. S'okay to feel when you're with me. Having a dad like Thanos made you into some hardened warrior that ate feelings for breakfast, lunch, and dinner but.. I'm not him, I actually care about your feelings. Not tellin' you, you gotta feel the way I do, just gotta be more open about what you _do_ feel." 

She spins on her heel to face the man, offering him a peculiar look, before frowning once more. "I've never had this--this _feeling_ before. Ever. Not in all my years, Peter Quill." She looks so vulnerable before him as she awkwardly grabs at her upper arm, running her hand up and down it. "It perplexes me." 

"That's a start.. Confusion is a good feeling.. Is that how you feel when you think about me?" Should he be relieved that she feels this way? Probably not, such an emotion could either make or break him later on down the road. But if he could get her to open up and at least explain why she came back to him, and only him, he would find some sort of peace in whatever her explanation may be.

Full lips part to speak only to close shut as she wavers awkwardly from foot to foot, completely differing from the dominating woman she was only moments prior. Vulnerability was not a trait suited for the woman before him, and it almost broke his heart into pieces. Had he known bringing up the subject would make her look so apprehensive and oddly frightened, he would have never spoke of it. He would have been content with reveling in just the thought of her; her skin, her eyes, her body, her voice, her everything.

"--I feel light, almost airy. Does that make sense?" Dark eyes are boring into his as she speaks, her head tilting curiously to the side as she allows the man to tug her back into the warmth his lap provides. 

He nods vigorously, "Oh, yeah.. That's a good thing, just means you like having me around more than you say you do." Cue the smug grin that twitches at his lips.

Her small fists curls inward as she delivers an almost playful punch to his chest, hearing him wince in response. "Perhaps I do, what then?"

The tips of his fingers trail feather-light up and down the length of her arms, noting her shiver and how tiny goosebumps bubble upon her skin. "I dunno, s'up to you to tell me. But, look. You don't have to say anything right now, alright? We can figure that shit out later. Just focus on how you feel when I touch you."

Although uncertain, she offers a small nod in response. Her body continues to involuntarily shiver as he trails tiny circles upon her upper arms then trails to her back, pushing her form closer towards him. She makes a noise at the abrupt movement but doesn't breathe a word as he presses warm, tender kisses along her collar bones, leaving open-mouthed ones as he finds one of her breasts. His mouth engulfs the small bud within the heat of his mouth, sucking earnestly upon it, before releasing it to breath hot air upon it. He then kisses his way between her breasts to her neck, allowing his nose to nuzzle there and pauses to inhale her intoxicating scent.

"Peter, that's--"

"Shh," He's quick to silence her as he nibbles at her neck, one of his hands finding it's way to her ombre locks, offering a gentle tug as he tilts her head back to gain better access to her neck. "Just feel.. Tell me later?"

His tongue glides along her smooth skin, alternating between nips and sucks, before pressing a kiss upon the satisfyingly purple bruise that forms in the shape of his lips. More kisses are peppered along her jawline before he hesitantly hovers his lips just before hers, as if thinking she would object and turn her head like usual. But she doesn't and that, in itself, is a small victory for the man. Lips press tenderly against the latter's, once, twice, thrice until she finally reciprocates and presses back.

Her hands are splayed along the broadness of his chest, scratching at the skin of his abdomen, as she tilts her head slightly to deepen their seemingly innocent kiss. It's far better than any reverie the Star-Lord has ever had, her lips more than eager to press against his own. He glides his tongue experimentally against her bottom lip until she parts them, allowing him entry. Her mouth is warm and hot as his tongue delves within her mouth, tasting her, remembering each and every crevice of her cavern. And, God, the mewls she makes is enough to have his cock twitch to life.

Once more his hands shift until they're gripping at her thighs, squeezing them and rubbing his hands up and down the length of them. "Good?" He breathes in between kisses, nipping at her lower lip, and earning a rewarding gasp in response. He sucks at her bottom lip eagerly, pulling the sensitive skin between his teeth.

"Good." She responds as she reluctantly withdraws from the man, pressing the foreheads together. Her eyes are closed as she places both of her hands upon his countenance, thumbs brushing along the skin beneath her fingertips. "What I feel for you.. It's good."

"Just good?" Peter teases lightheartedly, earning a scoff from the woman within his lap.

"Shut up."

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism? xx


End file.
